Pray to the gods to intermit the plague Julius Cæfar, A. 1, S. 1. Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: Timon of Athens, A. 2, S. 2. Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou fhew'ft thee in a child, Lear, A. 1, S. 4. Thy tooth is not so keen, Becaufe thou art not feen.] Dr. Warburton obfervesthe winter wind, the fong fays, is to be preferred to man's ingra titude. But why? Because it is not feen. But this was not only an aggravation of the injury, as it was done in fecret, not seen, but was the very circumstance that made the keennefs of the ingratitude of his faithlefs courtiers. I would therefore read, "Because thou art not fheen," e. fhining, fimiling, like an ungrateful court-fervant. > WARBURTON. But all, I think, are wrong. The lines are certainly very unmeaning as they at prefent ftand. A trifling alteration, how ever, Filial ingratitude! Is it not as this mouth fhould tear this hand, I hate ingratitude more in a man, Than lying, vainnefs, babbling drunkenness, I N K. He hath never fed on the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not replenished. Love's Labour Loft, A. 4, S. 2. Taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs; let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 2. INNOCENCE. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frifk i' the fun, And bleat the one at the other; what we chang'd, Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing. Winter's Tale, A. 1, S. 2. ever, will do away the objection raised against them by Dr. Warburton, and give them the fenfe and elegance they want. I read, Thy tooth is not fo keen:- Altho' thy breath be rude. The meaning of the whole will be-winter wind, thy tooth is not so keen as man's ingratitude; and though thy breath be rude, yet as thou art not feen, thou canst not infult us by thy frowns, by haughty and fupercilious looks. P 4 A. B. He He may The filence often of foften at the fight o' the child; pure innocence Perfuades, when speaking fails. Winter's Tale, A. 2, S. 2. Hence bafhful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! Tempeft, A. 3, S. 1. INSOLENCE. Now breathlefs wrong Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of ease; And purfy infolence shall break his wind, With fear, and horrid flight. 'I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, Timon of Athens, A. 5, S. 5. Henry VI. P. 1, A. 1, S. 3. If thou proceed in this thy infolence. INSTINCT. Thou know'ft, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware inftinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Inftinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. Henry IV. P. 1, A. 2, S. 4. I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat.] This means, I believe, I'll tumble thee into thy great hat, and shake thee, as bran and meal are fhaken in a fieve. STEEVENS. Mr. Steevens is mistaken, I think, in fuppofing that the cardi nal is to be tumbled into his great hat, and fhaken as meal is shaken in a fieve. To canvas a matter, is to fift, examine, or inquire particularly into it. The meaning of, "I'll canvas thee in thy broad cardinal's hat," is—I will make inquiry into thy conduct, and lay thee open to the world, notwithstanding the hat thou weareft, and which thou mayft perhaps imagine will ferve to protect thee. A. B. 'Tis 'Tis wonderful, That an invisible inftinct fhould frame them That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop Cymbeline, A. 4, S. 2. JO O V E. I have lim'd her: but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! What can be faid? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full profpect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 4. Jove! When on my three-foot ftool I fit, and tell enemy fell; And thus I fet my foot on his neck; even then The princely blood flows in his cheek, he fweats, Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture That acts my words. Cymbeline, A. 3, S. 3. For thou doft know, O Damon dear, This realm difmantled was Of Jove himself; and now reigns here A very, very-peacock'. A very, very-peacock.] This alludes to a fable of the birds choofing a king-inftead of the eagle, a peacock. POPE. I think Hamlet is fetting his father's and uncle's characters in contrast to each other; and means to fay, that by his father's death the state was ftripped of a god-like monarch, and that now in his ftead reigned the most despicable, poisonous animal that could be; a mere paddock or toad. THEOBALD. I am perfuaded that the poet wrote, "a very, very,cock," i. e. a cowardly, effeminate fellow. -mea A. B. JOY, JOY, JOY S. O my foul's joy! If after every tempeft come fuch calmness, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of feas, Olympus high, and duck again as low As hell's from heaven! Othello. A. 2, S. 1. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping! Much ado about nothing, A. 1, S. 1. There appears much joy in him; even fo much, that joy could not shew itself modeft enough, without a badge of bitterness. Much ado about nothing, A. 1, S. 1. There is fuch confufion in my powers, As after fome oration fairly spoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Merchant of Venice, A. 3, S. 2. I have no joy of this contract to-night : It is too rafh, too unadvis'd, too fudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Romeo and Juliet, A. 2, S. 2. Note him: He was not fad; for he would shine on those Antony and Cleopatra, A. 1, S. 5, This royal throne of kings, this fcepter'd ifle, This |